Dead Wrong
by lalala777
Summary: After Andy leaves, Nigel has a discussion with Miranda in her hotel room. He learns some things he never thought he'd know, and sees that the goddess has a mortal side. And, sadly, he finds a heart that no one will ever see again. One-shot; slight Mirandy


**Author's Note: **_Hey guys –_

_I've been bitten by the Mirandy bug. Funny thing is, I swore I'd try to avoid most femslash, and now I'm writing one. Oh God, what kind of weird hypocritical person has fanfiction made me? Well, it's not exactly Mirandy, but it's definitely hinted that way. I might be a little more daring if I write future stories about this couple, but no M for me. Know that I'm not homophobic, but that would be… an odd experience._

_So my obsession with DWP means no SD chapter this week! Sorry guys._

**Summary: **_After Andy leaves, Nigel has an interesting discussion with Miranda in her hotel room. He learns some things he never thought he'd know, and sees that the goddess he works for has a mortal side. And, of course, he finds a heart that no one will ever see again. One-shot; slight Mirandy._

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own anything, and I feel like I'm delaying the story by saying this. "By all means, move at a glacial pace. You know how it thrills me." Oh yes, Miranda, we know how it _thrills _you. (Jeez, I have to get my sick mind out of the gutter!)_

**Dead Wrong**

"Nigel?"

The fashion-designer looked in shock at his boss, all traces of anger leaving his face.

Miranda Priestly's face was clear of makeup, showing all the lines that accompanied a woman of her age. Her usually pristine trademark white hair was in a state of disarray, and her bright, cold eyes were covered in a sheen of tears. Tears she quickly blinked back when she saw who was standing at her door.

Her immaculately manicured nails reached up to brush down her hair, but seeing Nigel's expression quickly changed her mind.

"Oh, forget it," she quickly whispered to herself. "I am old and hopeless... come in Nigel."

The man nodded, brushing passed her into her hotel sitting room.

"Where is she?" Miranda asked, and Nigel thought it sounded a bit desperate. "Did she contact... never mind, of course she contacted you. I ought to go get her." Miranda looked up, her eyes hinted at an emotion that Nigel had never seen in her before. "Nigel," she began again, more firmly. "Tell me where she is."

The man slowly took off his glasses, shining them on his jacket. "With all due respect, Miranda, I don't quite feel like taking orders from you tonight."

Miranda's lips thinned, and she glared at her right hand man. Moving with a purpose away from the doorway, she brought her hands down on his shoulders and stared directly into his eyes. "Tell me," she said hurriedly, but with every ounce of intimidation she possessed. "I need to know how she is."

Nigel gazed up at her, confused. "How?"

Miranda's eyes widened in terror, and she tore away from him, turning to face the wall. After a minute, her shoulders began to shake, barely noticeably. "_Where_ she is," she corrected firmly. "That is what I meant."

There was a pause, in which Miranda turned and sat next to him on the couch, hesitantly taking his hand in hers. "I apologize for what I did to you, Nigel. I cannot say I regret it, but I _am_ sorry."

A corner of Nigel's mouth turned up. "I know," he admitted. "And I even understand why. I just... I felt betrayed."

Miranda nodded. "I will repay you. Eventually, I will find a way to make up for every awful thing I've done to you."

The man patted her hand. "I realize that, Miranda. And I do love my job, more than anything." He smiled softly. "I had an epiphany, and I came across the hall to tell you."

Miranda let out a bark of laughter. "Never lie. You were coming over here to scream at me, spit in my face, and resign in protest." She suddenly looked down at their joined hands, pulling away. "It's what _she_ did."

Nigel was enlightened. "Ah, this whole thing..." He looked at her smugly, eyeing her up and down. "This whole thing is about Six, isn't it?"

Miranda sniffed. "Of course not. As soon as we get back to New York, I will blacklist her and it will all be over."

Nigel moved in front of his boss, staring her directly in her unearthly azure eyes. "She didn't leave because of what you did to me. How could she? It would make her a hypocrite. It might have been the catalyst, but Andy leaving was long in coming."

Miranda rounded on him. "Then why did she leave? _Enlighten me_. I thought we had reached an... an understanding." She sat down, putting her head in her hands in an uncharacteristic sign of weakness.

"It is not my reason to tell, Miranda. In fact, you might as well resign yourself to never knowing, because she will never tell you." After this statement, he leaned closer. "However, I will bet it is close to the same reason you're clutching _that_ in your hands."

Miranda looked down, surprise written across her face. In the palm of her hand rest a charm in the shape of shoe. A rose gold shoe.

_*Flashback*_

_"Andrea," Miranda called, leaning back slightly in her chair._

_Her second-assistant hurriedly made her way into the office of her boss, notepad open and ready. "Yes, Miranda?"_

_The editor took a second to admire the James Holt dress covering Andy's making-its-way-to-size-four body, before beginning to rattle off instructions._

_She finished with her usual 'That's all', and immediately turned back to her work. A few moments passed, yet she still felt a presence in her office. Annoyed, she looked up. "Is there something you wish to tell me, Andrea? Do you need time off to attend another event with that cook of yours?"_

_Andy looked surprised. "You know about Nate?"_

_Miranda nearly slapped a hand over her mouth. Had she said that? "Oh yes, Andrea," she replied calmly, which didn't reflect what she was feeling on the inside. "Nigel informs me about his constant... whining about the time you spend here. It's rather irritating."_

_Andy almost nodded, but thought better. "Well, the reason I wanted to speak to you is... it's your birthday."_

_Miranda whipped off her glasses, looking up at the young woman with a smirk. "Thank you," she began dryly, "for reminding me. Surely the gala planned for tonight did not alert me at all."_

_Realizing that talking her way through this was apparently a bad idea, Andy simply slipped her hand into her pocket and brought out a small box, carefully laying it on the editor's desk. They both stared at it for a few minutes, Miranda in disbelief and Andy in anticipation. After a period of time had passed, the second assistant broke the silence._

_"If you don't like it, you can give it away or throw it out. I know that's what you do with most of your presents anyway."_

_Andy silently walked back to her desk, ignoring the smirk that Emily sent her way. The redhead had told her this was never going to work. Nigel passed in the hallway, and seeing her sitting there, shot her a questioning look. Andy just shook her head._

_"Andrea."_

_Andy began to stand up, before realizing that Miranda was standing directly before her desk. She immediately sat up straight, while Emily and Nigel looked on with curiosity. Miranda's expression was unreadable, but her eyes weren't the gray color they were when she was angry, so the brunette relaxed a little._

_Miranda held up the charm. "Where did you get this?"_

_Andy made her reply straightforward, knowing Miranda did not like long explanations. "My father makes those. I asked him for a favor."_

_Miranda gave her a slight nod, and Andy nearly jumped out of her seat in excitement. "It is acceptable."_

_Miranda spun on her heel and walked quickly back into her office._

_After that day, Andy saw, quite a few times, her gift on one of Miranda's delicate charm bracelets. It fell quite nicely around her wrist._

_*End Flashback*_

When Nigel went to grab the charm, Miranda's thoughts snapped back to the present, and her hand quickly closed around it.

"That does not concern you, Nigel," Miranda shot at him.

Her right-hand man shrugged. "If you want to wallow in self-pity, do that. She won't come back."

Miranda refused to acknowledge the tiny part in her brain that agreed with his statement. "Leave me."

Nigel nodded sadly, standing up. "You are very special to me, Miranda. I regard you as a friend." He studied her for a minute. "I found an early flight back. Andy will be gone in the morning, if you wish her to be." Miranda said nothing. Nigel was nearly at the door when she finally spoke.

When he turned to face her, he no longer saw the broken, flawed woman she had shown him earlier. In that woman's place, stood Miranda Priestly, editor in chief of Runway. "Andrea will be back. And when she returns with an apology, I will take her back with a small punishment for leaving during Paris Fashion Week, and everything will be back to normal." After she gave this little speech, she sat down and immediately began working. Once out of sight, Nigel shook his head and returned to his room.

This was the first time, he thought, in his long tenure at Runway, that Miranda Priestly had ever been dead wrong.

_~Finis~_

_I almost hated leaving it there, but thought the ending was fitting._

_I hope you guys enjoyed it, and please leave a review. I want to know whether I'm completely terrible at femslash._

_~lala~_


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